Page 14 of My Apocalypse Mountain Man
She does, and I carefully apply the cream, trying not to think about how soft her skin is, how she shivers slightly at my touch. It's been three years since I've touched another person with any gentleness, and my hands feel clumsy.
"You're good at this," she says quietly.
"Had practice. On myself, mostly."
"The others you mentioned. The three times you defended this place. Were you hurt?"
"Sometimes."
"But no one to help."
"That was by choice."
She turns to look at me, and we're suddenly very close. "Do you regret it? The isolation?"
"I did what I had to do to survive."
"That's not an answer."
"I didn't regret it then. Now..." I trail off, not sure how to finish.
"Now?"
"Now I'm realizing what I was missing."
The admission hangs between us, too honest for the morning light. Sierra reaches up, her hand covering mine where it still rests on her shoulder.
"Kole,” A crackle from the radio makes us both jump apart. "Anyone out there? This is Old Pines. Goldfinch, North Ridge, anyone, please respond."
Sierra lunges for the radio, adjusting frequencies with practiced ease. "Old Pines, this is Goldfinch. Tom, is that you?"
"Sierra! Thank god. We lost contact during the storm. The herd—"
"Diverted and eliminated. North Ridge and I handled it."
"North Ridge is with you? Kole?"
I lean into the microphone. "I'm here, Tom."
"Well, I'll be damned. The hermit and the voice of the apocalypse, together at last."
"Tom, what's your status?" she asks, all business again.
"We're secure, but Sierra, there's something you need to know. The storm patterns are shifting. More herds are moving south, and they seem... organized."
"Organized how?"
"Moving in formation. Too coordinated to be natural. Someone might be directing them."
The implications are staggering. If someone's learned how to control zombie herds...
"We'll keep watch," I tell Tom. "Sierra's radio skills might be useful for tracking patterns."
"Copy that. And Kole? Thanks for keeping her safe."
After signing off, we sit in silence. The weight of what’s happened these last few days settles around us.
I want is to pull her back into my arms, to forget about zombies and radios and the dangerous world outside. What I want is to see if the connection I felt during the fight translates to something more.
